The Plan
by phirephox666
Summary: Dean had been told there were only two choices; say "yes" and stop that future, or say "no" and everything would happen the way he saw it happen. No one considered the fact that Dean never followed anyone's rules. Alternate Timeline. Eventual Slash.
1. In Which Dean Makes A Plan Over Waffles

**Title: **The Plan (or How Dean Winchester Killed The Devil, With The Help Of Sam And Cas.)

**Author: **PhirePhox666

**Fandom:** Supernatural

**Pairing/Characters:** Dean, Cas and Sam. No pairings so far.

**Rating: **PG-13

**Warnings:** Some swearing. Alternate Timeline. Eventual Slash.

**Summary:** Dean had been told there were only two choices; say "yes" and stop that future, or say "no" and everything would happen the way he saw it happen. No one considered the fact that Dean never followed anyone's rules.

**Disclaimer:** Sadly I do not own. It's very disappointing. I own nothing but my laptop and the DVD set of the first five seasons of _Supernatural_. To bad.

**Word Count: **2,244

**Dedication: **For Aslan.

**Prompt: **None

**Excerpt: **Simple, like hunting, when everything has fallen in to place and he's got the matches and the bones and the salt and everything burns to ashes. Simple as that, they don't get to win.

**A/N:** Like all my multi-chapter fics, I have no idea if I'm going to continue this. Maybe, if I get a lot of requests. This can technically be read as a one is an alternate Timeline and will eventually be Slash if I continue. Review if you wish. Flame if you wish. Still never been flamed. Hope you enjoy.

Chapter One: In Which Dean Makes A Plan Over Waffles

(But Only After He Gets Sam Back)

In that first crystallized, perfect second, in which he is no longer standing nose-to-nose with an exceedingly pissed off Zachariah, in which his every thought focuses to a single point, in which he feels, sees, hears an echo of that world in which everything he was, everything he loved, was dead, in that first moment he suddenly knows, understands, comprehends what he is going to do. _He will not let them win._

Simple, like hunting, when everything has fallen in to place and he's got the matches and the bones and the salt and everything burns to ashes. Simple as that, they don't get to win.

Everything snaps into place and he turns, knowing with no uncertain clarity that Castiel stands behind him and he turns. The relief is sharp and almost tangible. "That was pretty nice timing, Cas." He says, voice rich with relief and gratitude.

When Cas smiles it is not a wide, empty, hopeless smile. It's the briefest curve of lips into something so faint that once Dean would not have understood what it was. That was then, though, and this is now and Dean knows the angel well enough to understand the smile and to hear the affection and amusement that mixes in Cas' measured and gravelly voice when he speaks.

"We had an appointment."

Dean's own mouth breaks into a genuine smile, the first in a fair while.

He knows that the image of _that _Cas will haunt him for a lifetime. The Cas who was all loose grins, and snappy retorts. Hippy Cas who had mass orgies and smoked pot and hit the bottle with more abandon than Dean had seen since Sam had died and he, Dean, had gone slightly crazy. Cas, who looked at Dean, both of them, like the hunter had broken his heart too many times to count and Castiel hated him for it but couldn't bring himself to leave. The image of that smile and those eyes, both haunted with immeasurable grief and unaccountable anger, will forever be burned into him. A reminder.

Clarity flares again, a star burst in the back of his brain, and his own eyes harden. He refuses to let that happen to Cas. He refuses to let that happen to Sam. Not to _his_ people. _Not ever._ He steps forward clapping his hand on Cas' shoulder and looks directly into Castiel's sky-blue eyes, letting his rare seriousness show, register, sink in. "Don't ever change."

What he doesn't say is his own private vow. 'I'm not letting you change into that.'

Castiel tilts his head in silent question his curiosity evident, but Dean's already patting his coat pockets for something. Cas wisely changes gears. "How did Zachariah find you?"

Dean grimaces a bit thinking of the poor sucker who sure as fuck wasn't in the know if he thought that the angels were the good guys.

"Long story," He looks up at his own angel, "Let's just stay away from Jehovah's Witness' from now on."

Aha! he pulls out his phone triumphantly, flipping through the numbers. Castiel frowned slightly. "What are you doing?"

Dean pauses for a moment before pushing the 'Call' button over Sam's name. He looks up at Cas before he lifts the phone to his ear. "Something I should've done in the first place." He smiles slightly before turning his attention to the phone.

When Sam picks up Dean speaks before Sam can get in a word edge-wise.

"Sam, I'm in Kansas City. We should talk. Meet me at the usual place."

When Sam responds his voice is thick with grief and hope and Dean just wants to hug the sorry-ass bastard at the way he hesitates.

"Are you sure?" Dean is though, never has been more sure of anything in his entire life. So he says, "Yes. Damned sure, Sammy." Firmly and with no room for argument and the hangs up before Sam can protest anymore.

He hangs up, looking up into Cas' bluer-than-blue eyes. He holds the gaze for a moment and a faint and quick impression of concern flits across Castiel's face. "Are you alright, Dean?"

Dean closes his eyes for a moment. "No, not yet. But I will be. I will be." He opens his eyes again and looks at Cas. "First things first. You take me to the Impala. I drop you off somewhere where you wait for us while I meet up with Sam."

He looks around taking in the empty highway. "Where were you while I was sleeping, anyway?"

Castiel looks around as well. "Here." He states simply.

Dean blinks, then blinks again. "Here? On the side of the road here? For four hours, _here_?"

"Yes." There is a hint of a frown mixed with confusion as if Cas cannot quite comprehend why Dean is having trouble with this concept.

"Jesus, Cas." Dean sighs rubbing the back of his neck for a moment. He's so very tired."Right, well that changes now. It's time to teach you the uses of the diner."

For a moment Cas looks indecisive then he asks with the faintest of frowns. "This will not be anything like the brothel, will it?"

Dean frowns and his mind flashes to that room where a drugged out hippy Cas sat, four women looking up at him adoringly. His voice is sharp as steel when he speaks. "No! In fact brothel is out of your future vocabulary. Forever."

Castiel's expression is one of curiosity now and Dean feels his cheeks warm with embarrassment but he's not going to take it back now. He makes a vague motion with his hand.

"Right. Let's go. I've got a brother to fetch."

He's cold, the metal of the Impala cool against his thighs and ass where he leans against it, the air sharp with early morning chill. He's not thinking about the cold though. He's thinking about Sam. His baby brother Sammy, who he's spent his entire life protecting. Sam, who he traded his life for. Sam, who he pushed away. Sam, who asked him to let him come back. Sam, who he almost let go forever. Sam who wasn't Sam anymore, only a demon using his brothers face. Sam, who _this _time isn't going to become that.

He looks up as he hears the crunching of tires on gravel. His eyes land on the piece of crap that Sam has picked up. Sometimes he thinks his brothers taste in cars is almost as bad as his need for chick-flick moments.

He gathers himself and when Sam steps out of his car Dean is ready and meets his eyes steadily. In Sam's eyes are a combination of hope, despair, fear and need. Dean sighs slightly and steps forward toward his baby brother. He's already checked to make sure their really alone so when he comes to a stop in front of Sam all he does is speak a simple, "Sam."

Sam looks like crap, tired and worried and worn. When Dean reaches into his jacket to get The Knife he leans ever so slightly away the look in his eyes a resigned 'you're going to kill me.' Dean keeps his expression neutral as he flips the knife around, watching as Sam's own expression shifts, his eyes widening in surprised question, 'you trust me?'

Dean chooses to answer this question by wiggling The Knife slightly. "If you're serious," He starts voice serious, eyes grave, "and want back in, you should hang on to this." He meets Sam's eyes squarely letting a small bit of humor slip in to his tired voice. "I'm sure you're rusty."

Sam smiles, stark relief flooding his face. He takes The Knife peering at Dean's face questioningly. "Listen man, I'm sorry." Dean looks at him, looks into hazel eyes that are explicitly Sam's, warm and real and filled with emotion. Nothing like the dead, flat, reflective things that were Lucifer's. He swallows and says in a voice not much more than a whisper, "I'm, Ah, whatever I need to be, but I was... wrong."

Which sums up everything because he was so wrong. Perhaps not about trusting Sam because that will take some time, but about them not being able to work together. About leaving Sam alone.

Sam asks him, voice rough, "What made you change your mind?"

Dean huffs out another sigh, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "Long story." Such a long story. "The point is, maybe we are each other's Achilles Heel, and maybe they'll find a way to use us against each other, I don't know. I just know that we're all we got."

He looks directly into Sam's eyes this time, letting him know that this was about both of them. Speaking, not just of Sam's issues, but of Dean's as well. "More than that... we keep each other human."

Because that person he'd become, the one who'd left his brother to face Lucifer alone, left him to make that choice alone. The one who'd left Cas, maybe not physically, but mentally. Who'd let Cas become some drugged out hippy. Who'd stopped taking care of his people. That person, that man, had not been human. Had been little more than a machine.

"Thank you." Sam's voice is rough with relief, eyes bright with unshed tears. "Really. Thank you. I won't let you down- "

Dean cuts him off before he can continue, his voice suddenly hard. "Oh, I know it." Because if Sam betrays him on this, Dean's not completely sure what he'll do and he _is _trusting Sam on this. Then he lightens his tone because he's Dean and there is not a thing in the world, in the whole goddamned universe, that can happen that he won't find some way to crack a joke at. "You are the second best hunter on the planet."

Sam looks away, something half sob, half laugh escapes his mouth, Dean waits for him to pull himself together, which only takes a moment. Sam's voice is steady, though his eyes are still a little over bright, when he speaks next, something Dean is proud of. "So... what do we do now?"

Dean thinks of the future that Zachariah had shoved him in to, had so callously, so in characterly, pushed him in to. Thinks of his own self, dead already in spirit with a body that was just hanging on. Thinks of that Cas' haunted eyes and grief at a life that he'll never know again. Thinks of Sam who had given up his body to Lucifer, who knows why, and the blissfully empty eyes that had stared back at him.

Everything sharpens, clarity flaring, and when he speaks his voice is hard and sharp and certain. "We make our own future."

Sam takes a deep breath, setting his shoulders and straightening his back. "I guess we have no choice."

Dean's mouth quirks slightly, because hell, if that ain't damn near prophetic. He let's the silence settle for a moment before he turns towards the Impala.

"Get your stuff and come on. We've got to pick up Cas and then there's some stuff we have to talk about." Sam does.

He orders them all breakfast. Food, he figures, is what they all need. Of course, being the ultimate pains-in-the-ass that they are, both Cas and Sam protest to eating. He glares at both of them in the way that he had perfected due to years of practice on Sam. They both cave. Dean quirks a smile and settles in to eating his own food. It's damn good, too.

Waffles, he decides, are pure heaven. He thinks Cas, who has never tasted them before, might agree by the pleased look on his face.

When they all have eaten and the waitress, Debby, has refilled their coffee cups, even Cas' who has found he actually rather likes coffee, Dean straightens in his seat and clears his throat to get their attention. He has it in moment, with unnerving intensity. Two sets of eyes, belonging to the two most important people in his whole universe. His people.

He look at them, bringing every thought in to focus. "I have a Plan." He can practically hear the capital letters in his own words. Sam and Cas stare at him for a moment hopeful beyond belief. Dean can see it in his own head, every step he needs to take, he can make things work differently. Nothing will be the same. He smirks a little.

"Lucifer needs to die. And I know how to do it."

_To Be Continued...Maybe?_


	2. In Which Dean Explains and Help Is Found

**Title: **The Plan (or How Dean Winchester Killed The Devil, With The Help Of Sam And Cas.)

**Author: **PhirePhox666

**Fandom:** Supernatural

**Pairing/Characters:** Dean, Cas and Sam. No pairings so far.

**Rating: **PG-13

**Warnings:** Some swearing. Alternate Timeline. Eventual Slash.

**Summary:** Dean had been told there were only two choices; say "yes" and stop that future, or say "no" and everything would happen the way he saw it happen. No one considered the fact that Dean never followed anyone's rules.

**Disclaimer:** Supernatural is not mine. Dean is not mine. Cas is not mine. Sam is not mine. If they were mine, well, lets just say the show would be veeery different.

**Word Count: **2,148

**Dedication: **For Aslan.

**Prompt: **None

**Excerpt: **There's a smile on Sam's face that Dean hasn't seen since before he made The Deal, and Cas is draped over the front seats, head propped up on his forearms, listening with an appropriately serious expression to the two brothers.

**A/N:** Hah! This is being posted on my birthday. Win. I wanted to get this out today as a birthday present to myself. Happy Birthday to me. Woot. Anywho, I hope you enjoy. Hope this doesn't seem too rushed. I have resolved to continue it due to the kind words of _Hakarou, Downside-Left, xXDemonic-AngelicXx, , deathnnoteno1fan-codegeasslover, _and _Riddle Master 101._ They all were very encouraging. Many thanks is owed to them. On a separate note, I have no beta which is why this is so rough. If anyone wishes to help me with this you are welcome to talk to me about it. I hope everyone enjoys the second chapter of The Plan. Review if you wish. Flame if you wish. Still never been flamed. Hope you enjoy.

Chapter Two: In Which Dean Explains And Help Is Sought

(And Somehow An Angel Is Shot)

Dean's plan, The Plan, is strangely simple. Half improvisation, half based on the note that he'd found in his pocket. The note that he'd recognized as Chuck's handwriting, the note he had felt slipped into his pocket when they'd shook hands at the end, but forgotten about. The note that the Devil in his Sam-suit couldn't take away because he didn't know what it was. The note he'd found in his pocket when he'd tucked his keys away, waiting for Sam at that bridge. The note that detailed how to kill the Devil.

It's a ritual, old and half forgotten. Dean knows of it, remembers faint whisper-rumors he'd heard once or twice (down in Hell.) It was given as a gift once, to someone who's name has long been forgotten or lost or locked away. The demons in hell once whispered of it, talking in passing of the man who'd first tried to use it. To kill the devil. Who'd failed so very, very badly and had paid the worst price. The demons laugh, take pleasure in the story of his failure. This is one of Dean's clearest memories (real memories, not just aimless torture or endless pain) of Hell.

So the ritual had long ago buried in some archive and somehow Chuck had found it, or been given it. And it's here, now, in Dean's hands stating the best, and only as far as Dean can tell, way to kill the devil.

When he tells Sam and Cas this, as well as explains how he knows what it is while leaving out where he got it and saying only that it's from Chuck, both of them stare, in their own unique ways that is. Sam's mouth is half open, his eyes round and wide in a gesture of surprise. Cas' eyes are a little wider than normal, his head tilted at just the right angle to convey his surprise. Sam speaks first, voice a little strangled.

"_What?_" Dean just grins widely, not bothering to look even a little sheepish. "How the _hell_ did Chuck manage to get that to you?" At this Dean's smile becomes a little on the forced side. He doesn't want to try and explain, nor does he wish to lie to either Sam or Cas. So he just shrugs and quickly moves on.

"It's not going to be easy to get this stuff." He tells them, eyes skimming the instructions. "We need the four horseman's rings, holy oil blessed by a prophet, birch leaves from a faerie circle. Jeez, not asking for much are they." Sam snatches the paper from Dean's hands while Cas just tilts his head uncertainly. Then Sam goes very pale.

"Dean." He says, and his voice is suddenly hoarse. Dean looks at him, serious as the grave.

"It's fine Sammy. It'll be fine." Cas is looking a little annoyed in his stoic, angel way so Dean explains. "We need some of the Devil's blood to complete the ritual. Which means we'll have to battle him to get it since I doubt he'll just stand there and let us take it. That's the part that the man who first attempted this failed at. But we won't because we have each other and he was only one man."

He doesn't tell the other part, the hardest part. The part not written on that piece of paper but that Dean knows anyway with the strange and striking clarity that has been dancing on the edges of his mind since he returned from that future that is no longer. The blood has to be taken by a human wielding the sword of an archangel. Which means first they have to find an archangel's sword and that will be no easy task.

Sam breaks him out of his thoughts by speaking. "We'll have to figure out where we can get some of this stuff. I don't know where you'd find half this stuff."

Which is when Cas speaks, looking faintly worried as he glances at Dean yet still stoic, "We should visit Chuck. He is a prophet and he is the one who first gave you the ritual." It's a vaguely brilliant idea.

They exit the diner and a brief argument on how they're going to get there follows. Dean wants to take the Impala but Sam argues that if they need to make a fast getaway Cas is faster than the Impala. They compromise by agreeing to drive to the edge of town and then have Cas angel-beam them in to Chuck's house from there. This means that they have several hour drive to Chuck's house, which Dean insists that Cas take with them.

Dean, in a display of trust in his brother, lets Sam drive. Sam looks away quickly, but Dean still sees the way that his eyes have misted over. He looks away to and Cas catches his eye, a not-quite-there smile tugging at his lips and a warmly pleased look in his eyes. Dean knows that a faint blush has made it's way up his cheeks. To clear the quickly descending awkwardness Dean clears his throat and makes a smart-ass remark. Sam scowls at him but it's for show and even as they get in the Impala Cas' warm approval stays in his eyes.

They spend the drive with Dean showing Cas what good music is, Sam occasionally breaking in with his own opinion. It's good, better than good even. There's a smile on Sam's face that Dean hasn't seen since before he made The Deal, and Cas is draped over the front seats, head propped up on his forearms, listening with an appropriately serious expression to the two brothers.

Their arrival at Chuck's house is accompanied by the sound of beating wings that comes with angel transport, and Dean opens his eyes to find Chuck and a very dangerous looking gun pointed at him. There is something inherently wrong in Chuck wielding a rifle.

He blinks at Chuck even as Chuck greets them with an enthusiastic, "Oh, hey, guys! I wasn't expecting you yet."

"Chuck. Gun." He growls and Chuck looks at him a little blankly before moving the gun away from Dean and unfortunately pointing right at Castiel.

"Chuck." This time it's even more of a growl.

"Aw, come on guys. The safety's on. See." Chuck pulls the trigger, putting a slug right into the unfortunate angel's chest. Everyone stands there for a moment looking at the now smoking hole in Cas' trench coat. Cas looks faintly reproachful as he sticks a finger through the newest addition to his coat even as Dean rounds on Chuck, pissed and annoyed. He quickly takes the gun away, flicking on the safety before handing it off to Sam.

Looking Chuck straight in the eye, he warns softly, "Don't do that again." There's something in his voice that makes Chuck gulp and nod furiously. Dean nods once, then moves on.

"The ritual," He pauses there to make sure that Chuck is on the same page as the rest of the class and is pleased to find Chuck nodding in understanding. Pleased because this means that Chuck already knows what happened and is agreeing to keep it to himself. "We need help finding some of the stuff."

Chuck nods, "I already started doing some research. There's a man in Oregon who supposedly sells blessed copper bowls, and I think I found a faerie circle of Birch trees in northern California."

Dean just stares, not expecting the smaller man to have already started the research. To be honest he'd expected to have to cajole the other into helping. Chuck pauses catching the look and keeping it, meeting Dean's gaze with only the barest hint of fear this time. And Dean understands, in another one of those strange flashes of clarity that he's gained since coming back. Chuck had seen it too, the end, the future. Had seen, and understood, and stood before him a product of that knowledge. Same as Dean, he had not come out of the experience unscathed, even if he had only seen not experienced. Dean feels a strange flash of camaraderie for the seer.

"Good." He says gruffly and lets the other man read the _thank you _in his words on his own.

"I was thinking," Chuck says, "It won't be safe for you guys to come here very often."

Dean nods, he knows this too. Cas is unprotected and coming to a place where an archangel could show up if he perceives his charge in danger cannot be something you want to do very often if your on Heaven's shit list. It seems a bit too much like tempting fate to Dean.

"So, I had this idea," He gulps, looking away a little nervously. "That, maybe, you could use some of your fans?" It comes out more a question than a statement, but even so it stuns them all into a brief silence.

"No." Sam waves the now bullet less rifle in an aimless motion. "Just, no. We do not need more marzipan making crazies knowing we're real. And in contact with us."

Chuck frowns a little, "Look, their not all like that. And Becky's not crazy, she's just... really enthusiastic. Besides ever since the new stuff came out your following has tripled. They really know their stuff too. They wouldn't just be messengers. They could help gather information too."

While this is interesting and bears considering no matter what Sam says at first it's something else that catches Dean's attention. Sam gets there first.

"What do you mean 'ever since the new stuff came out.' What _new stuff._ Do not tell _me_ you published more books?" Sam's voice has lowered to a hiss, and Chuck is looking rather terrified as Sam looms in a way that only he can. Dean hides his grin as Cas stands off to the side looking as if these proceedings are a fascinating display of human actions. Carefully he steps between them, placing a hand on Sam's chest and pushing him back a little. Then he turns to Chuck and fixes his gaze on the writer.

In spite of his anxiousness, Chuck manages to squeak out an explanation. "Not... not _real_ books. But, well, e-books. They're really popular, you know." Dean sighs, rubbing his forehead as Sam steps forward looking livid.

"Perhaps we should consider the use of your... _fans._" There is a slight edge of distaste to Cas' voice when he says the word, but he continues as placid as ever. "It seems as though it could be a useful resource."

Dean can't help but agree with him. Chuck, eager to show that he's correct, motions them over to his computer opening several windows.

"Look, they know the legends back and forth. They can help find what you're looking for easy. It's a nation-wide network." He turns to look at them, eyes wide and earnest. "Cas is right. Just give them the chance."

Dean looks to Sam since he's the one who has voiced the most objections. Cas seems to be agreeable, although he is looking at the computer screen intensely, a faint frown in his eyes. Sam looks between his brother and their prophet before sighing.

"Fine. But we look over their information. No more crazies." Chuck nods furiously, and grins.

"You're not going to regret this. I promise guys." Dean thinks they aren't.

Later, when they are driving towards Oregon with a bottle full of holy oil blessed by a prophet (yet another strange requirement for the ritual) stashed in the trunk, Dean looks to his brother and his angel. Sam has one of his bitch-faces on, but it's mild and Dean's long since grown accustomed to them. Cas is looking intense and contemplative, which is slightly strange, but which Dean figures has something to do with something he found online. The internet is a strange place and who knows what he ran into there.

Dean's exhausted and the music is blaring. He's been awake for who knows how long, since Future-Dean woke him up, and before then he'd only had four hours of sleep after way too long of a drive. Not that being knocked unconscious constituted real sleep either, but it was the closest he'd gotten since then. Thus he's exhausted and Sam and Cas begin a murmured conversation on something that is no doubt very nerdy and scholarly. Dean grins a little to himself.

He lets the satisfaction slide over him then, they're already getting closer. They've made that first, crucial step and they will not falter. He grins, they are going to do this, they are going to kill the devil. He slips into unconsciousness, content and comforted by the murmur of voices of his two most important people.

_To Be Continued..._


	3. In Which They Get Something Done

**Title: **The Plan (or How Dean Winchester Killed The Devil, With The Help Of Sam And Cas.)

**Author: **PhirePhox666

**Fandom:** Supernatural

**Pairing/Characters:** Dean, Cas and Sam. No pairings so far.

**Rating: **PG-13

**Warnings:** Some swearing. Alternate Timeline. Eventual Slash.

**Summary:** Dean had been told there were only two choices; say "yes" and stop that future, or say "no" and everything would happen the way he saw it happen. No one considered the fact that Dean never followed anyone's rules.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own this show or the two characters not from Supernatural that are referenced here. Which is very sad.

**Word Count:** 2,270

**Dedication: **For Aslan.

**Prompt: **None

**Excerpt: **Dean was not expecting Cas to lay his hand on Dean's shoulder. It should make him tense up since so often that action has led to him being angel-beamed to somewhere else, mostly unpleasant places, but it doesn't because this is _Cas_ and Cas wouldn't

**A/N:** Ah, sorry this is rather later than the last, I am a little unreliable on speedy updates. Luckily I already have most of chapter four written so I should be much faster with it. So I'm estimating this to be somewhere around seven to ten chapters. Unless some great stroke of genius hits. This chapter is thanks to _kyatariina, Kittle,_ and especially _Downside-Left and Riddle Master 101 _both of whom left wonderfully long reviews and reviewed the first chapter as well. Also, if anyone can guess who Ki (pronounced like "key") and Rian (pronounced "Ree-ahn") actually are I am offering a one-shot as a prize for the first person. This lasts until my next update reveal who they are. There are lots of clues. Good luck to all. I hope everyone enjoys the third chapter of The Plan. Review if you wish. Flame if you wish. Still never been flamed. Hope you enjoy.

Chapter Three: In Which They Get Something Done

(And Dean Talks To An Ex-Angel)

The town of Cave Junction sprawls across several square miles and has a population of somewhere around two thousand people. Perhaps less. It's neighbor-town of Kirbyville is smaller and less populated and it is extremely hard to truly differentiate between the two as it seems as if their boarders merge quietly with no thought to proper town edges. The shop they are looking for is somewhere on the edges of either town and is not so much a single shop as a lot full of brilliant wood sculptures and odd buildings.

As they search out the main building Dean finds himself mildly enthralled by a large, twisting fountain with purple water pouring from layer to layer. Sam tugs him away with great difficulty. The main building is just as eccentric as the rest of them and thus has a great deal of woodwork, metalwork and conglomerations of both strewn around the room. There sits a desk in the corner, by a large bay window. An equally large man sits behind the desk.

Dean notes absently that the desk is intricately carved with figures that he knows enough of to recognize the old myth that plays across the wood. The man is tall, even sitting, and heavily muscled beneath his casual T-shirt. With long blonde hair and a blonde beard he looks a bit like a lion.

He looks up and grins at them widely and happily.

"Hello!" He booms at them in a friendly matter. "Looking for something?"

At one point Sam would have been the one to step up, smiling his most charming, innocent smile, and speaking in his friendly, look-at-me-I'm-so-innocent-and-I-need-your-help voice that had fooled so many into helping him. Unfortunately, this Sam is the Sam who is still struggling with the fact that he is The Devil's meat-suit and filled with guilt over his betrayal of Dean. Thus, Sam is not up to his usual boyish, innocent charm. And Cas is, well, Cas and is probably the least people-person, or people-angel that is, of the group. (Although, his blunt manner is sometimes very useful.) So it falls to Dean, who to be perfectly honest can be both friendly and charming when he needs to be.

It helps that this man very much reminds him of an old friend in both looks and manner. Dean grins back and if it's a little softer than normal neither of his companions says anything.

"A friend of ours said that he'd heard you do specialty orders." Dean leaves out any mentions of blessed copper bowls for the moment in case the tall blonde will be inclined to think him crazy. Instead the taller man grins even more widely and calls out (bellows more like) "Brother!"

Dean blinks a couple times at the pure volume the shop attendant attains and out of the corner of his eye he sees Sam shaking his head as if to clear it and Cas' faint almost unnoticeable frown that is directed at the man. There is a short pause before another man, this one almost the polar opposite of the one in front of them, slips gracefully into the room. He is slightly shorter and slimmer as well as much fairer with dark hair and greenish-blue eyes.

The two are different enough that Dean would doubt they are related if not for the blondes shout an the utterly familiar way they move around each other. They move with the comfort and ease that comes only from long times spent together and complete trust and understanding between them. Dean reflects a little sadly that he and Sam once moved with that ease.

"Brother!" The blonde greets, enthusiasm evident as he embraces the other who bears it with a look of fond annoyance on his face.

"Rian. Have you even bothered to introduce yourself as of yet?" The blonde, Rian shakes his head in obvious exasperation and no little amount of fondness as he turns to the two brothers and angel. His blue-green eyes are cool and assessing even as he smiles warmly.

"Hello," He greets smoothly, "I apologize for my brother's lack of courtesy. This oaf," Here he smacks his brother on the arm, eliciting a small yelp, "is Rian Walker. I am-" Rian's cheerfully booming voice breaks in.

"Ki. Ki Walker." The fairer-skinned brother glares briefly at his counterpart before he nods in concession.

"Yes, I am called Ki." Dean nods, offering his own smile.

"I'm Dean Winchester. This is my brother Sam and that's Cas, er, Castiel." Rian startles slightly and an odd expression passes over his face before it breaks out in to it's natural grin. Ki looks at them calculatingly for a moment before he steps forward, extending a hand to Dean. Dean shakes it and is surprised by the strength he finds in that grip. Ki shakes both Sam and Cas' hands, although Cas does so slightly awkwardly, before returning to Rian's side.

"You've come for something... special." It is not so much a question but Dean nods anyways.

"Tell me." He commands and so Dean does, explaining exactly what they needed.

"Hmmm, not to difficult then. Blessed copper, formed into a bowl. It should only take a couple of hours. Brother, come help me. You three come back in two or three hours."

He turns without waiting for a response, Rian already at his side. Before the two leave through the door Ki had entered from before, Dean catches a murmured between them.

"Even Silvertongue feels fondness sometimes, then." The blonde says. Ki shrugs in return.

"You know that brother. Besides, why would I not aid in the salvation of the world we have chosen?" If Rian has a response none of them hears it as the door shuts behind them. Dean trades a glance with Sam and then looks at Cas. Cas looks a little puzzled, an expression that's contained to his not-quite-human-blue eyes. When Dean through a questioning look his way however, he says nothing and smoothes the expression away. Dean lets it go. He figures that Cas will tell them if something is wrong.

"So," He says to no one in particular, "Where do we wanna go?"

They end up going to McKay's, to pick up what has to be the best fucking sandwich Dean has tasted in his _life._ Even Cas looks as if he's enjoying his food and Cas has barely tried any food so far. Then Sam manages to convince Dean, how Dean doesn't know, to go to the rock shop that Sam noticed on their way through. It turns out to be more of a rock museum. Sam delights in this and Cas quickly becomes fascinated by the different displays.

Dean wanders a little, just _thrilled_ to be in a rock shop of all the places he could be right this very second. Then he catches sight of the container full of agates. He's always loved agates, he doesn't know why but he always has. There's something about the beautiful stones that has him plunging his hand into the pile and running his hands over them almost reverently. Occasionally one will catch his attention and he'll lift it to the light, examining the way the light plays through it.

He doesn't bother to turn when the man comes up beside him, recognizes him as just another customer.

"You know agates are used to summon courage and for emotional healing Sometimes even to encourage harmony in ones life." Dean does not stop shifting through the stones, even as he speaks to the other being.

"Gabriel." It's a quiet acknowledgement but it startles the ex-archangel.

"Dean." He says back, quickly regaining his equilibrium.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Dean keeps his voice low and casual and free of venom as if they really were still talking of agates. He's following his instincts here, but his instincts have been so much sharper since his return from the future-that-wasn't and have morphed into strange clarity. Gabriel smirks at him.

"Visiting friends, not that it's any of _your_ business." Dean thinks Gabriel's friends might be the two brothers. There is something not quite human about them, the same as Gabriel. He lets the subject drop however, staring at the shape shifter discretely.

"We'll need your help, you know." He says casually. Gabriel startles, flinching almost imperceptibly at Dean comment. He draws ever so slightly away, his borrowed face twisting into something immeasurably sad and then smoothing quickly.

"I have no idea what you are babbling about." Dean stares at him, catching his gaze. Gabriel finds he cannot look away from the intense, forest green eyes.

"Of course you know." Dean looks down to where his hands absently toy with an agate, copper rings of color throughout it catching his eye. Gabriel finds it a small relief to not be trapped by those eyes. Seen too much, know too much eyes that somehow are exactly the same and starkly different then the last time he'd gazed into them. Dean speaks again.

"I know he's your brother, but you'll have to make your choice soon enough. The world will not stand still so you can agonize over every consequence. You know that." He looks up again, catching the Trickster's eyes briefly. "We'll find you, when we need you. Go away."

Gabriel's borrowed face sneers at him and then he winks out of existence as if he'd never been there to begin with. Dean picks out a few agates, the one with the copper rings of color within it reminds him of Cas somehow, and pays the bored looking cashier. After all he could use some balance in his life. It doesn't take too long to collect his brother and his angel, even if Sam does protest a little at being dragged away from the display he was picking through.

He tells them of his encounter with the Trickster while he drives them back to pick up their blessed copper bowl. Dean can tell that Sam wants to ask how Dean knew it was Gabriel, that both of them have questions that he's not ready to answer right now. Luckily for him they arrive at the shop before either of them can ask.

Dean was not expecting Cas to lay his hand on Dean's shoulder. It should make him tense up since so often that action has led to him being angel-beamed to somewhere else, mostly unpleasant places, but it doesn't because this is _Cas_ and Cas wouldn't.

When Cas speaks his voice is deep and rich and it sends a shiver through Dean, even though it's only one word, only his name. "Dean."

Dean has to swallow a little before he answers and even so it comes out a little hoarse and stilted and perhaps less intelligent then it could. "Yeah, Cas?"

Castiel smiles. It's slow and warm, barely more than the quirks of his lips that convey his emotions normally. Most of the emotion is in his eyes and the smile itself sits a little awkwardly but Dean finds that his hear has lodged itself somewhere in his throat as well as increasing it's speed to about three times what is normal.

"Thank you, Dean." This time he pauses a little on Dean's name, like he's savoring it and for a moment speech_ really is not possible_ (he's going to kill Sammy if he says a single thing about this) and there's a slow burn of emotion starting in his stomach that he really doesn't' want to think about just yet.

When speech does come back, which takes a moment but Cas seems content to wait, he manages a rough "You're welcome." He does know what Cas is thanking him for, because Dean could have yelled or accused Gabriel and for all he ran off he's still Cas' brother. Cas lets the smile linger a moment longer before his face fall back into it's lines of passivity and he turns and heads to the main building.

Dean licks his lips and tries to gain back some semblance of sanity. When he too turns Sam is standing a couple of feet away, face blank, but eyes clearly expressing his amusement. Dean does not blush. He does, however, scoop a stray pinecone from the ground and launch it at Sam in one fluid movement. It hits his brother perfectly in the chest and the bastard laughs. Still decidedly _not_ blushing, Dean turns and follows Cas, Sam only steps behind him and still laughing like the asshole he is.

Cas is engaged in a conversation with Ki about, what Dean gathers is, a very obscure book. This sort of confirms Dean's sneaking suspicion that Cas knew them and his not-quite-human theory. Strangely this doesn't bother him as much as it once would have. He's learned, had to learn, that not human does not always equate monster.

When Dean and a still snickering Sam enter Ki looks up and Rian greets them with another blinding grin. (Dean wonders in the back of his mind if this guy ever gets depressed about _anything._) Ki gestures them to come forward.

"Your bowl." He presents to them. It's fairly plain and entirely functional.

Dean nods and gestures at it as he asks, "How much do we owe you for it?"

Ki fixes him with that piercing stare. "Nothing, Dean Winchester. We have our payment."

While Dean thinks that this could be more than a little ominous he's not one to look gift horses in the mouth. They exit quickly after a quick round of goodbyes and pleasantries and head off to California.

One more item, one more step.

_To Be Continued..._


	4. In Which Our Boys Meet The Fans

**Title: **The Plan (or How Dean Winchester Killed The Devil, With The Help Of Sam And Cas.)

**Author: **PhirePhox666

**Fandom:** Supernatural

**Pairing/Characters:** Dean, Cas and Sam. No pairings so far.

**Rating: **PG-13

**Warnings:** Some swearing. Alternate Timeline. Eventual Slash. Becky.

**Summary:** Dean had been told there were only two choices; say "yes" and stop that future, or say "no" and everything would happen the way he saw it happen. No one considered the fact that Dean never followed anyone's rules.

**Disclaimer:** I have yet to gain ownership to the show _Supernatural._ Maybe for Christmas. Dear, Santa...

**Word Count:** 2,038

**Dedication: **For Aslan.

**Prompt: **None

**Excerpt: **Sam puts on one of his medium bitch faces, somewhere between 'Dean-turn-off-that-music-now-we've-heard-it-fifteen-times-today' and 'Dean-you've-frozen-my-computer-with-your-porn-again-and-you'd-better-fix-this-right-fucking-now.'

**A/N:** Sorry I'm so late with this chapter. I wrote it all out and then hated it. Nothing went right with it and it was so stilted and off that I had to completely rewrite it. All the way through. Jeez. I like it now tho'. So no one even guessed from last chapter. -Pouts- So I'm giving another chapter to guess cuz I want to write something for someone. I hope everyone likes this chapter. Special thanks to my reviewers: _kamiluv, ImpalaPandemonium _and my repeat reviewer_ kyatariina. _Thanks a ton guys, your my inspiration. Reviews and Flames are welcome. Hope you enjoy.

Chapter Four: In Which Our Boys Meet The Fans

(And Get Carefully Scrutinized and Confronted By Said Fans)

Two months, a false lead on a faerie circle, another item collected and a particularly nasty vampire attack later Chuck finally sends a message detailing where they are to meet their fans. Tulsan, Michigan ends up being the meeting place, at the local Denny's. Because Denny's is universally appreciated and nothing can beat greasy Denny's food. Or their pancakes.

They come armed, just in case, Sam carries The Knife, Dean has a vast assortment of weapons and a flask of holy water and Cas has, well, _Cas._ Dean leads, Cas on his left and Sam on his right, and if there was ever any doubt in their loyalty it would have been absolved there in the quiet intensity Cas exudes and the determination on Sam's face.

The group, their fans, is sort of, but not quite, what Dean expects. There a five women and three men, including Becky who is practically bouncing in her seat with excitement. The women next to her has a long suffering look on her face. All of the group is drinking coffee and most are eating something.

The three of them stand, awkward and unsure, for a moment before one of the group catches sight of them. She nudges her neighbor, a serious looking man who immediately focuses on them. At his change of interest the rest of the group swiftly looks to see what has captured his interest. They quiet when they spot the two hunters and the angel.

Becky is quick to offer a comment, "_See, _I told you." There's a bit of a whine in her voice as well as a bit of triumph.

The serious man hushes her and looks at them. "You're the Winchesters then, and Castiel?"

Dean nods, stepping forward and offering his hand, "Dean Winchester." The serious man takes his hand and shakes it firmly, a hint of steel in his grip. Dean gestures first to his brother and then to Cas.

My brother, Sam Winchester, and Castiel, Angel of The Lord." He introduces them both, catching Cas' subtle startle at the use of his title. The serious man tilts his head in greeting.

"Elliot Barge. Sit with us, some of us are not so convinced as Becky."

Dean drew out a chair and sat, Sam did the same on his right, Cas on his left. He examines the group around him and they in turn examine him and Cas and Sam. Some of them look reverent, some look skeptical, each person looking intently at them, the force of their attention surprising.

Dean turns his own attention to his menu to escape their prying eyes. He nudges Sam next to him, pinning him with a glare when the younger of them fails to open his own menu.

Sam puts on one of his medium bitch faces, somewhere between 'Dean-turn-off-that-music-now-we've-heard-it-fifteen-times-today' and 'Dean-you've-frozen-my-computer-with-your-porn-again-and-you'd-better-fix-this-right-fucking-now.'

With the air of someone who's had long experience with this attitude Dean threatens, "Order breakfast or I'll do it for you, and you will not like what I order."

Sam scowls at him, but opens his menu even as Dean goes back to his own. He's grateful that some conversation seems to have started back up again, some of the table turning it's attention away from them. Becky, of course, is still regarding Sam with reverence and the Elliot's gaze is heavy on Dean, but they mostly seem content to wait.

Dean glances to his left and the sight of Cas gazing intensely at his menu amuses him. Cas has found that he likes some human food, he even shares some of the same tastes as Dean. Dean turns his attention back to his menu and a moment later he nudges the angel with something approaching glee in his voice as he says, "Look, Cas, _pancakes. Blueberry_ pancakes"

Cas nods wisely and closes his menu with a snap. Dean grins and flags the nearest waitress. He gives her one of his heart-stopping grins when she stops at the table and she smiles back prettily.

"Hey, hon, what can I get you." Her eyes are deep blue and kind and older then they should be. Something about her reminds his of deep sunsets and high mountains. He widens his grin as he answers.

"Blueberry pancakes for me, and a cup of coffee would be heaven." She writes it down and turns to Cas who orders the same. Sam orders his own cup of coffee and, with a little prompting, a salad. There's a general murmur of assent when she asks about drink refills and she moves gracefully away from them.

"So," Dean starts as soon as she has returned with their drinks. Elliot interrupts with a faint smile. "I do believe you've proved your identities."

Sam looks at him startled, "What? How?"

"Your... interactions." Elliot explains and Dean can see the logic in that.

"I _told you_ I wasn't having paranoid delusions!" Comes Becky's voice and Dean smiles a bit even as the woman on Elliot's left puts a restricting hand on Becky's arm and the enthusiastic girl subsides into mutterings.

Elliot motions to his left, "This is my sister, Ara." Dean can see the relation in the shape of their faces and the shade of their eyes.

Next to Ara is Becky and next to Becky a pretty girl who's wearing a trench coat that looks suspiciously like Cas' introduces herself as Silvia Carage. Sitting in the chair next to Silvia and yet a deliberate distance away a young man, barely eighteen, who has at least a dozen visible piercings and at least half as many colors in his hair, introduces himself as Niko Trenton. Next to him is another man, with dark brown hair and wary gray eyes, who obviously knows Niko from the way he's positioned himself close to the man introduces himself quietly as Matt Etienne.

The last two women introduced themselves as Lisa Grady and Coraline Dereaux. Coraline had a faint French accent to her words and she looks at Cas sideways from underneath her eyelashes as she introduces herself next to him. Dean ruthlessly squashes the emotion that threatens to come up.

"What do you need from us? Carver didn't tell us much." Elliot says quietly, not quite urgently. Beside Dean it's Sam who speaks, his expression all earnest puppy dog eyes, and hopeful innocence.

"We have a plan to kill the devil. And we really need your help. It's not going to be easy. Hell, it'll probably be friggin' hard, but we're asking, hell we're begging, for your help here."

Coraline Dereaux speaks, her hair the most striking shade of copper Dean's ever seen. "Hard? We know what hard is. Hard is digging through websites trying to find an obscure bit of information. Hard is trying to figure out how smart you have to be to get a full ride to _Stanford._"

Matt breaks in, gray eyes burning, "Hard is rereading, dissecting, every book, page by page, trying to figure out exactly what makes an angel tick."

Elliot speaks, a hint of a smile on his stern face, "We know hard, and we know research. Just ask, and watch us."

Dean feels a rush of affection for these people, these fans. He passes Elliot the stack of papers he'd spent the better part of two hours writing up, the night before. "This," He tells them, "is a list, of all the things we need to find. All the things we need you to find. This won't be easy, but with this we can take down the devil."

Niko looks up from his list, voice soft and sure. "We've got this."

In a clamber of plates being pushed away and a flurry of movement, laptops appear in front of each of them. In a moment they've become totally immersed in their task and there is the steady murmur of them, asking each other questions, confirming facts.

And something clicks into place, like a puzzle piece, another piece of this plan. This is it, this is it all coming together. A grin spreads over Dean's face as he takes in this heady feeling of success.

It's pretty obvious that they're more of a hindrance then a help so he flags down their waitress. She comes over bearing a bag of Styrofoam boxes. At his quizzical glance she explains, "Your food, hon." She smiles at him and sweeps away before Dean can ask any questions about how she knew.

Dean, Sam and Cas stare after her in confusion before Dean just shakes his head at the weirdness of it. Not feeling threatened he tucks his questions away and catches Sam's eye, nodding at the door. He taps Cas on the knee once and the three of them stand as one and move to the door.

They're halfway across the parking lot, halfway to where they left the Impala, when they hear the call of, "Wait!" Lisa Grady is small and mousy and scared. In that moment she looks impossibly young and innocent. She meets Dean's eyes, determined even in her fear.

"You're real," She tells him, tells them, "you guys are real. That means... that means that everything else in the books, it's real as well. All of this shit on the news, all the stuff they're saying is just random, that's real too. This is the apocalypse. It's really happening, isn't it?"

He wants to deny it, offer this girl some measure of comfort, but he can't. It's not his way of doing things and she has the right to know the truth, needs to know the truth. So he looks her right in the eye and confirms what she already knows in a gentle tone, softening the blow. "Yes, the apocalypse is real. It's happening."

She bites her lip and wraps her arm around her middle, looking terribly vulnerable, trying to find comfort in her own embrace. She looks away for a moment worrying her lip, then looks at him again. There's a fire in her brown eyes, a new determination and he feels himself straighten his spine at the look in her eyes and the steel in her tone when she speaks to him.

"It's going to be alright." She says, steel there in her tone, "It's going to be alright because you are Dean Winchester and you are going to stop the apocalypse."

The words hit him hard, such faith from someone he hardly knows. He blinks, a little stunned, before he gathers himself and responds surely.

"Yes. You can count on that." She smiles, reassured, and turns and goes back to her comrades.

It hits Dean in that moment, staring at her retreating back, how much he has resting on him. Such a weight, the world is relying on him, and he feels as if he could be buried underneath that weight if he makes any small misstep.

He's startled from his dark contemplation when beside him Sam reaches up and lays a hand on his shoulder, gaining Dean's attention. When he turns to look at his younger brother Sam merely offers a smile, warm and familiar and trusting.

"We'll make this happen, Dean." He tells the elder man, and the words, simple and unvarnished and trusting, are exactly what Dean needs to hear from him. He gets one of Dean's best smiles in return, one that pleases Sam to no end. Sam smiles again in return and he makes his way to the Impala.

Dean goes to follow him but is restrained by a gentle hand on his bicep. Dean half turns to look at the angel and Cas catches his eyes and holds them, gaze burning and intense.

"Have faith in yourself, Dean." He instructs in his grave voice, "For we have faith in you." He smiles then, an unnamable emotion settling in his eyes even as he looks warmly at Dean. "_I_ have faith in you."

If there's still a faint tinge of pink to his ears when they stop at a pleasant looking park to eat their breakfast and drink the best damned coffee Dean's had in months, well, no one says anything. Not even Sam who keeps shooting grins at him when he thinks Dean won't notice.

Bitch.

_To Be Continued..._


End file.
